I lay figuratively naked
washed ashore from a dark sea
alone in my room
alone with the thoughts that scare me
I twitch thru the movements of living
fits and starts
trying to not look too hard at what I do
lest I see the fruits of my labors
poisoned tree
poisoned mind

I lay figuratively naked
on the empty bed
starving slowly
crawling like a dog without moving
crying like a ***** as my visage melts away
I try to numb
but I am too alive to feel it
but I am too dead to deny it
sounds rudely awaken me
no rest for the wicked
no rest in a dark sea

I figuratively run fast as I can
not being able to breath
I figuratively speak to you
in rhythm without rhyme
I am figuratively still alive
in this dark sea

Wrapped in the warm
prison of the bedsheets
a cold foot sneaks past
and dangles in the air at the
end of the bed

I shiver like sailors of old
in this cold wind that blows
across my toes

I wrestle the blanket
for the sleep it maintains
all elbows and thumbs
****** this way and that
restless wanderers of designer sheets

I shiver like sailors of old
in this cold wind that blows
across my toes

As I grumble
look to the clock
Four AM glares back at me
a cold foot wiggles
a cold foot waggles
Ode to be a cold foot
sorrowful tale to be sure

I shiver like sailors of old
in this cold wind that blows
across my toes

The further away we may wander,
the closer to the heart our olden days become
the people who welcomed us
the places we danced
the music that still lingers in the air
with the love of a dream still shared...

The further away we may wander
we love each new adventure
never knowing where the road may lead
but we will always fondly look back
to the many homes our hearts have known
and wish upon wish to share our adventures
and roads with the people who celebrate our joy...

The further away we may wander,
we come to realize
places are meant to be left behind
but the smiles and loves we found there
will forever be part of who we are

beauty is a terrible force of nature,
terrible in its wrath for the heart that loves it,  
terrible in its burden to the heart that carries it,
terrible to the heart that beholds it and cannot embrace it...

beauty is adoration of all lovely thoughts and hopes,
beauty is adoration of all that is found and lost again in the heart,
beauty is adoration of the sweetest dreams that we wish we could never wake from...

Beauty speaks to you in a silent lust for what cannot ever be yours alone,
Beauty speaks of all the lives one could live in such a sweet natural place,
beauty speaks of how it can never be happy because so many fear it

My know it all grin
plastered on the pavement
as I'm given the boot from another
home sweet home
"not so fast, slick..."
should have heard it
should have known it
but pride and folly are my calling cards...
now I must gather up my gear
and flee on down the road
eviction notice pinned on my ***...
they are gonna laugh
probably throw a party
done given me the boot
good and hard
shake me loose from my tree...
should have heard it
should have known it
but pride and folly
are my calling cards...
so wish me luck on down the road
I'm gonna need it
with that dumb
know it all grin of mine
plastered on the pavement

thoughts once so clear
now flee en mass like
small birds scattering in the wind...
try to capture one
and it fades to dust in my
trembling hand
my eyes teared up by the loss...
what was her name...
when was it I smiled like the
sun bursting through the clouds on that day...
where did I misplace that long-sought device...
where have all my yesterdays gone...
all escapes along the shifting winds of age
small beautiful birds
plumage so bright and beautiful to behold
loves and laughter, days of wonder and joy
crumble into dust as my forgetful fingers
pry at their edges, trying to recall...
her yesterday was my forever
do you think she remembers me? ...
as I slip into forgetfulness
I hope that I will no longer remember
to mourn my forgotten yesterdays...
age is coming for me
and iv forgotten how to tame that ugly beast

lesser forms of sunshine
each a design dreamt long ago
each a blissful madness of joy
they invade the room through the open window
while the shadow of a man recites "Hamlet"
in a cold gravel voice
a prince born of such a bold pen
such a tale forever told yet again

"Hamlet" reaches the end of his nonsense verse
no tragedy of princes can tell the whole tale
there is always the love so long restrained
that bursts all the inhibitions and makes
the world all about her

a prince born of such a bold pen
such a tale forever told yet again
penned by figures clouded in mysteries created
a name that is known to every house and citadel
speaking to a world he never could imagine
all these centuries later
his words still stir